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Page 85
I saw that my companion was deeply moved.
"It's all true, what they say, isn't it?" she murmured.
"Yes, it's true, but--we can't change the world, we can't give up our
country, our independence. Hello!"
A white-faced man had rushed into the parlour, gesticulating violently
and making distressing guttural sounds. It was Stephen.
Uncomprehending, I watched his swift signs.
"What is it? What is he trying to say?"
"Wait!"
Her hands flew in eager questions and the man answered her.
"Oh!" she cried. "The riots are a blind to draw away the police and the
troops. They're marching against the Blackstone Hotel now--a thousand
German spies--with rifles."
The Blackstone Hotel! I realised in a moment what that meant. The German
Crown Prince was still a prisoner at the Blackstone, in charge of General
Langhorne. It was a serious handicap to the enemy that we held in our
power the heir to the German throne. They dared not resort to reprisals
against America lest Frederick William suffer.
"They mean to rescue the Crown Prince?"
"Yes."
I rushed to the telephone to call up police headquarters, but the wires
were dead--German spies had seen to that.
"Come!" I said, seizing her arm. "We must hustle over to the auditorium."
Fortunately the great recruiting hall was only a few blocks distant and
as we hurried there Miss Ryerson explained that the furnace man, Stephen,
before coming to us, had run to McCormick College, the Chicago home for
deaf students, and given the alarm.
"What good will that do?"
"What good! These McCormick boys have military drill. They are splendid
shots. Stephen says fifty of them will hold the Germans until our troops
get there."
"I hope so."
I need not detail our experiences in the enormous and rather disorderly
crowd that packed the auditorium building except to say that ten minutes
later we left there followed by eighty members of the Camp Fire Club
(they had organised this appeal for recruits), formidable hunters of big
game who came on the run carrying the high power rifles that they had
used against elephants and tigers in India and against moose and
grizzlies in this country. Among them were Ernest Thompson Seton, Dan
Beard, Edward Seymour, Belmore Brown, Edward H. Litchfield and his son,
Herbert.
Under the command of their president, George D. Pratt, these splendid
shots proceeded with all speed to the Blackstone Hotel, where they found
a company of deaf riflemen, under the command of J. Frederick Meagher,
about seventy in all, guarding the doors and windows. Not a moment too
soon did they arrive for, as they entered the hotel, hoarse cries were
heard outside and presently a bomb exploded at the main entrance,
shattering the heavy doors and killing nine of the defenders, including
Melvin Davidson, Jack Seipp and John Clarke, the Blackfoot Indian, famous
for his wood carvings and his unerring marksmanship.
Meantime messengers had been sent in all directions, through the rioting
city, calling for troops and police and in twenty minutes, with the
arrival of strong reinforcements, the danger passed.
But those twenty minutes! Again and again the Germans came forward in
furious assaults with rifles and machine guns. The Crown Prince must be
rescued. At any cost he must be rescued.
No! The Crown Prince was not rescued. The defenders of the Hotel
Blackstone had their way, a hundred and fifty against a thousand, but
they paid the price. Before help came forty members of the Camp Fire Club
and fifty of those brave deaf American students gave up their lives, as
is recorded on a bronze tablet in the hotel corridor that bears witness
to their heroism.
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